


Good Reflexes

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Series: NSFW Drabble Meme Challenge [3]
Category: Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: AU, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Chikan, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, Subways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gold has an awkward encounter on the subway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Reflexes

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a NSFW Drabble Meme (http://ladybookwormwithteeth.tumblr.com/post/131245736388/send-me-a-ship-ill-try-and-write-you-a-drabble). There are a few more one-shots to come.
> 
>  **Beta** : MaddieBonanaFana, as always!
> 
> Chikan (my prompters choice), according to Wiktionary, is a public act of molestation. This isn’t going to be a smutty sorry, but I think it’s cute :) Also, get ready for loads of whiny Mr. Gold having a terrible day.
> 
> This is actually inspired by true events - a friend of mine was once in Mr. Gold’s shoes.

New York was a despicable city, as far as Gold was concerned. That was not an opinion, but a scientific fact! Why Neal had chosen this, of all places, to live in, was beyond him. Something to do with it being the city that never sleeps, full of interesting people and opportunities for new artists. It was fast, noisy, and so much unlike the little town he grew up in. Which was exactly why his father hated it so much.

At least in Storybrooke you could always get a cab, no matter the time, no matter the weather. But try to get a cab in New York when it’s raining! A mere drizzle, and the Big Apple went chaotic! If he wanted to make it to his son’s apartment on time, the subway was the only option.

The train was full and people pushed and pulled, forcing themselves into a ridiculously small space. It was enough to make him feel like cattle. No one seemed to care that he had a cane. He looked around for a priority seat, but apparently that was a foreign concept America was not ready to embrace just yet.

“Would you like to sit, sir?”

Gold looked down to find a girl around Baelfire’s age. She had a book on her lap and a backpack trapped between her feet. Any other day, he’d have shouted that he was not an invalid and that he had been standing for much longer than she had, thank you very much. But he was too tired to be stubborn.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said, picking up her things and allowing him to take her seat. He couldn’t quite place her accent, but it wasn’t American. Australian, probably. That explained why she had some manners. She smiled at him. “I’m almost at my stop anyway.”

He gave her a half-smile.

The girl pulled the backpack to a shoulder, like a purse, and continued to read, seemingly unaffected by the sudden stops that made the whole train sway. She probably lived in New York and was used to the whole ordeal. A student, he guessed, just like Neal. But not an artist. More like a dancer. Classic ballet at Julliard, or another renowned school. She had the legs for it – not that he’d noticed.

He looked down at her heels and tried to concentrate on the subway announcements. They were as unclear as Neal had warned him they would be. How was he supposed to find himself in this maze of a city?

The girl closed her book and turned around to look at the door. Standing on the busy train, she looked even smaller, despite the high heels. It looked like she’d have to fight her way out of there. Gold looked out as they reached the platform, and he barely had time to wonder if this was his stop as well when the train stopped with a violent jolt, making all the patrons sway.

The girl, however, had already let go of the strap and had to take a step back and wave her arms wildly to keep her balance. It was no good. Her book went flying and her backpack fell with a rattle on the floor. And then she landed on Gold’s lap, more specifically, on his open hands. As a reflex, he closed them, trying to hold on to her so that she wouldn’t then roll to the floor and maybe break something. Except that he wasn’t holding on to her waist, as his stupid brain first thought. Not even close.

The girl jumped out of his lap even faster than she had landed, yelping “ _Hey_!” and making everyone turn around to look at them. Gold stared at her with a mortifiedexpression, waiting for the slap that was sure to come. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Nothing his frozen brain could think of sounded good enough.

_I’m sorry for squeezing your ass, Miss. I was only trying to help._

Yes. She would believe that. Who wouldn’t?

Thankfully, she just picked up her backpack and rushed out of the train as the doors were closing, not even giving him a second look. Her book stayed behind, lying on the floor and ready to be stampeded on.

Gold cleared his throat and waited for everybody to lose interest in the creepy old lame who liked to molest young girls on the subway. He only realized too late that he had just missed the right stop. Not that he’d dare get off right after her. That would only make everything worse.

He had to walk six blocks under drizzle to Neal’s apartment, with nothing to use as an umbrella but the girl’s book. But what was a serious case of flu if it saved him the embarrassment of having to interact with the girl ever again?

Coughing and shaking from the cold, he dragged himself up three flights of stairs, wondering if it would be too late to ask Neal for his couch to sleep on. He couldn’t face that horrible city again. Not tonight. He needed a shower, and warm clothes, and a plane ticket back home.

He knocked on his door and got no answer.

“C'mon, Neal,” he said, tired. “I really need to sit down. Don’t leave me waiting.”

He’d forgotten. Of course. He was probably out with friends, playing beer pong or whatever it was that young people did nowadays. He’d have to drag himself back to the subway and to the hotel and hope he didn’t die of pneumonia on the-

The door opened.

Standing there was the subway girl, recently changed to a warm sweater and jogging pants. He wondered if his own face looked as shocked as hers did.

“I… sorry, I think I got the wrong apartment.”

“You’re Neal’s dad.”

_No, no, no, no, no…._

“You’re the new roommate,” he concluded. Just his luck.

“Yes. Uhn. Come in.”

“Yes, right,” he babbled, still unsure of how to proceed. He should probably apologize. “I, uhn, I have your book.”

“Oh!” she smiled, looking truly happy to have her book back. Gold decided not to tell her he had been using it as an umbrella. “Thank you. I thought it was lost.”

“Yes. And I’m sorry. For the… I wasn’t trying to-”

She shook her head, silencing him. “I fell on you, it was an accident. Damn New York trains, yes?”

This time, he gave her a full smile. “Yes. Indeed.”

“Neal’s in the shower. Would you like some tea? You look like you need it.”


End file.
